


you're burning yearning

by bossymarmalade (maggie), maggie



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alien Sex, F/M, Femdom, Feminization, Multi, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-27 05:01:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21386512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggie/pseuds/bossymarmalade, https://archiveofourown.org/users/maggie/pseuds/maggie
Summary: Sometimes things that were balanced go lopsided. And sometimes it's a weird alien symbiote with no concept of personal space who helps to right those things again.
Relationships: Eddie Brock/Anne Weying, Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote, Eddie Brock/Venom Symbiote/Anne Weying
Kudos: 72





	you're burning yearning

**Author's Note:**

> > my blog partner john did a post about [what eddie would wear on a date with anne and the symbiote](https://tommyplum.tumblr.com/post/188839229116/what-would-eddie-wear-for-a-three-way-date-between), and it got the gears turning. post-movie, eddie is bottomy, anne gets ideas.
>> 
>> { } denotes symbiote mental dialogue; "{ }" is when venom uses their voices to speak. references to physical assault.  


Eddie does well, he thinks, with waiting until they’ve finished their entrees – black bean veggies and noodles for Anne, soy duck and rice for himself – before he says, “I caught the, uh, the work you’ve been doing defending those college kids in the defamation suit. It’s good.” Even with all of his careful mulling over how to approach this topic, the statement sounds faintly patronizing when Eddie hears it out loud, so he cracks on hurriedly, “–I mean, I read the statements you gave to the Herald and I just wanted to say, you’re … it suits you. Public defense. More than working for a multinational ever did.”

Anne drinks some of her beer and nods, slowly, a few times. Still nodding, she says with only the slightest pucker of a smile at the corner of her mouth, “…and you, yes you, Eddie, you wrote a really great expose on the unsavoury personal life of the professor bringing the charges against them.”

He opens his mouth to protest, Anne grins outright, and Eddie can’t help but grin back at her. “That obvious, huh?” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and the symbiote rumbles dryly, {that you’re desperate for her approval? even the waiter could tell.} “Ecch,” is what Eddie says in response, and Anne peers at him curiously.

“It said something just now, didn’t it?” She’s been observing him keenly all night watching for signs of that very thing, Eddie realizes. And here he’d thought she just missed his blue eyes and charming banter.

“Yeah.” Eddie cops to it, because what’s he gonna do, lie in some misguided bid for dignity? That all got shot to shit last year the instant he sat on a clutch of lobsters in public and snacked on one of their still-living pals. “He said–”

“Wait, should I be calling it – him, should I be calling him a him?” Anne looks honestly concerned for a moment that she’s committed some breach of politeness before catching herself, and now it’s her turn for a sheepish laugh. “Doesn’t matter. What he said, I mean, you don’t have to tell me, Eddie. But yes, I do read Brock Talk. You could have come up with a better name for it, but I read it.” She smiles, reaching over to rub one hand against his knee. “The printed word’s doing good by you. You seem more … contemplative. It’s nice.”

“Nice?” Eddie groans, while Anne laughs and flaps her hands and says, “Actual nice! Not tepid bland I-don’t-know-what-else-to-call-it nice.” She stops flapping and one of those hands makes its way to the side of Eddie’s face, and he exercises what he thinks is a tremendous amount of self-control not to turn his nose to nuzzle against her palm.

{she smells like warm sesame oil. she’s delicious. not in the usual way.}

“You’re looking good, too,” Anne says, tilting her head a tiny bit as her voice pours out – like warm sesame oil. “Rested. Rejuvenated. Like you’ve re-found your purpose.”

Instead of saying anything that would count as useful follow-up, Eddie says with his own voice sliding down low beneath hers, “I’m so sorry, hon. About what you went through.”

She’s braver than him ten times over, Anne, twenty, thirty, maybe, is what Eddie thinks with sick anger curdling inside him when she looks at him, eyes gone dark with remembered trauma yet staying open, fearless. “Shit happens,” Anne says, but she doesn’t smile or shrug along with the statement. It’s not a dismissal of the attack she survived, from some virulently enraged fucklehead with a dozen priors for violence towards women, who grabbed his chance to take out his hatred and frustration on her when he got his one miserable opportunity. Sending Anne to the hospital for a fortnight, into therapy for months, and–

{he was _not_ delicious. but he still felt good sliding down our throat, didn’t he, Eddie.}

–yeah, and that. But the less said about that, the better.

Eddie clasps Anne’s hand, then lifts his own to gently coil one of her little blonde curls around his fingertip; after she’d had her head half-shorn in the hospital for the stitches, her hair had grown back all wavy and curly, on the one side, and she had never bothered to have the other side cut or curled to match. So here she sits all lopsided. Just like Eddie had been, before the symbiote.

{at least you’ve started admitting it to yourself! finally! i keep telling you, Eddie, we complete each other, you were a doughnut without a hole before me. i am your doughnut hole to make things complete again.}

(No matter how many times Eddie explains, often with props that include bismarks and maple bars, the whole concept of why some doughnuts have holes and are perfectly fine and functional while others were never meant to have holes at all, the symbiote still seems stuck on this idea that doughnut holes are some sort of pastry orphans adrift in the world. And by the time he eats a dozen doughnuts by himself and blearily rolls himself into bed Eddie’s not sure he’s made the metaphor very clear anyhow.)

“Can I come over?” Anne says very clearly with her gaze never having wavered, not needing a metaphor at all, and Eddie suddenly tastes the phantom of sticky-sweet glaze.

\--- --- ---

“–wouldn’t mind bringing me back here, I could tell you probably would have the place cleaned up and decent." 

Eddie fumbles his keys as he slants a questioning look at Anne, paused outside his door, and she puts a hand against the wall to steady herself as she itches behind her calf with the top of her other foot. "Look at you, Eddie,” she says, nodding at his chunky oatmeal-coloured sweater and jeans. “I can tell when you’ve made a concerted effort to dress up, I figured you would have tidied too.”

{i picked your clothes! tell her i did it!}

“You didn’t do the tidying, though, you did the opposite of that.” Eddie gets the door open and knocks on the light switch with all the knuckles on one hand as he lets Anne in and she gives him that quizzical look again. “The symbiote, Venom, he might have had a little bit of input when it came to the clothes.”

“A little bit,” Anne smiles, toeing off her kitten heels, and Eddie holds up his thumb and forefinger a centimetre apart. “A skoosh,” he says. Anne laughs and breezes on through to the living room, leaning against the sofa and nodding her head sideways at the pair of pumps and knitted anklewarmers slumped among the worn Chuck Taylors and penny loafers dumped on the floor in front of the TV. 

“You were doing Footloose without me? Who did the parts with the high heels?”

Eddie, who reminds himself that he left shame far behind him in that lobster tank, only reddens a little bit and chuckles, “I had a few real depressing stories I’ve been following! And you know Footloose is the only thing that cheers me up after a long, long, oh-so-long day of human mayhem and misery, Anne–”

She reaches over to punch his arm lightly as he passes her to pick up his mess, stooping to gather the shoes and drop them into a box at the side of the TV stand. “Eddie! I’m not making fun, I am well aware of the power of the opening credits to Footloose, I’m the one who learned all the dances with you, remember? God, how many times did we watch that scene that one winter?”

“Enough for Mr. Waczinscki downstairs to register a noise complaint with the landlord.” Eddie smiles at her, the sofa and a few feet of floor and rug the only things between them, because all of a sudden the years don’t seem to be any sort of distance at all. “It turns out I can do the heels pretty goddamn well myself, except then Venom gets rude about it and calls me a pussy.”

Anne’s posture goes still, a little, and she purses her mouth, and Eddie feels a flood of worry as he starts up, “–I know, I should probably have a talk with my symbiote about the sorts of insults that have gendered weight to them down here on this planet–”

“Eddie.” Anne rests her palms against the back of the sofa, leaning forward, and she’s staring at him again like she’d been doing in the restaurant. With that freight-train determination she was capable of, that Eddie’s always been in awe of. “That’s not – no, I’m not thinking about that.”

“Then … what're…?”

“Eddie,” Anne says deliberately, “I’m wondering if your symbiote can tell how much you like when somebody talks about your pussy. The way you liked when I did it.”

“{HE LOVED IT! HE GOT HARD, ANNE, AND HE MOANED BEFORE HE COULD STOP HIMSELF!}”

Eddie claps his hands over his mouth, mumbling curses and imprecations as he stomps in a circle around the TV stand and nearly falls over the box of shoes before looking up at Anne. Who’s smiling, just a little bit, but there’s something new and carnivorous in the tilt of her rose-stained lips. “I’m sure he did, Venom,” she says, and starts to unbutton her blouse. Pop pop pop, each pearlized little button comes open under her short polished nails and Eddie feels each one ping low in his belly. “I’m sure he made that sound in his chest, the one that he makes when you put your hand on his throat–”

“{THE SLUTTY ONE?}”

Anne’s bloodthirsty smile gets longer and she’s moving around the sofa, now, towards Eddie. Who can’t seem to do anything except blurt out whatever Venom wants him to, except for the sharp inhalation he makes when Anne reaches for his chin and curls her slightly chilly fingers under it, brushing the side of her fingertip along the line of the scar he has there. “Yeah, the slutty one,” she says approvingly, and her thumb runs along Eddie’s bottom lip. “Vee – I can call you that, right? Since you and I did share blood and tissue for a little while back in the woods that time.”

A short grudging silence before Venom flexes Eddie’s vocal cords to say, “{you can call me that. but only you get to and only because i agreed to it.}" 

"I wouldn’t call you that, what, eurgh,” Eddie protests, mumbling, feeling decidedly like he’s being talked over. Anne leans in and kisses him.

Her mouth is much warmer than her fingers, and Eddie’s not the only one making familiar sounds because Anne’s happy high hum that thrums through their lips as they kiss, that’s mighty familiar too. Eddie wraps one arm low on her waist, then the other, and when Anne tugs out of the kiss she keeps her forehead tilted against his, her hand having drifted from his chin to the middle of his chest where her nails scritch into the knit of his sweater. 

“Vee,” she continues, “I think we’d better fuck him.”

Anne turns her head against Eddie’s forehead, the side with the waves and curls catching against his eyebrow and lashes as she gives a little animal growl, and Eddie holds her tight and steady. “Are you–” he starts, at the same time as Anne pulls back, eyes flashing, and cuts him off with, “–you better not be about to ask me if I’m sure, Eddie Brock, because this is happening. This shit is–” Anne leans back at the waist and flings her blouse off, breasts gorgeous and full behind the smooth lines of her royal-blue bra, “–it’s happening, it is, and I want it. And you want it, and Vee wants it, and that’s all there is to say about it so don’t you dare ask me if I’m sure because the answer is yes. Now take off my bra and let me see your bedroom.”

What can he do, with Anne’s bright demanding eyes and Venom’s rolling purr of approval? Eddie knows when he’s outnumbered and outgunned, only instead of trying to fight a way through and out, he succumbs. Because it’s Anne in his arms, it’s the soft weight of her breasts in his hands when he unhooks her bra and helps the straps off her shoulders, it’s the way she gasps and juts out her chin when his thumbs catch against her nipples. It’s a win-win … win situation, what they’ve got here.

{are you going to tell her about us? about the things that i do to you?}

“Somehow I don’t think it’s news to her,” Eddie says as he swings Anne up, hoisted against him, and walks her into his bedroom. She’s stroking his hair, gaze eating him up like they haven’t seen each other in eons, and she tugs the tip of his more pointy ear and says fondly, “I guessed. Considering the way that Vee chose for me to pour him back into you, administered with a soul kiss.” Anne pats at Eddie’s shoulders for him to put her down, and they can’t take their eyes off each other as they undress next to the bed. Or, sort of undress, anyhow; Anne’s still wearing her little cloisonne necklace of ladybugs and her pleated skirt although she takes off her panties, but she watches Eddie until he’s stripped down to not a stitch. “Get on the bed,” Anne tells him, her voice velvety as she runs her fingertips up the inside of one of her thighs.

Eddie fucking hustles.

He lies down on his back and Anne climbs on top, settling herself with her knees on either side of his hips, hovering just above the rising thickness of his cock. Eddie can feel the heat of her, and Anne rests one hand over Eddie’s strumming, tumbling heart. “Upsy-daisy, Vee,” she says, sweetly as if she’s a kindergarten teacher, and sure enough the tarry shiny black of symbiote starts to trickle upwards through her fingers to wrap around her forearm. “Ooooooh,” Anne says, then moans it, then drops down a little so that she can slide her slick wet pussy along the length of Eddie’s cock. In one long motion, then another, then she’s rocking back and forth against him and Eddie’s hips buck, the head of his prick shoving hard against Anne’s clit to make her hiss and press her other hand against his chest too, nails digging down.

Venom’s halfway between them, stringy-sticky but not, at the same time, and it’s the symbiote that cups and lifts Eddie’s cock so that Anne can sink down onto its eager stiffness. Anne yips and Eddie groans, and she rocks some more before bouncing, the sight of her lush tits heavily following the movement making Eddie reach up to cup one, his fingertips pressing along her side. 

“You … jesus, Eddie, you still feel so good.”

“Glad I didn’t trade my dick in for a newer model then,” Eddie grunts, and Anne leans down and bites one of his nipples to scold him for the sarcasm. She rubs her cheek against him after, and then she’s up again in an arc, back curved and breasts offered for his pleasure, shaking her blonde hair back and starting to ride him in earnest. Her skirt rustles lightly along Eddie’s thighs on each bouncing roll of her hips and he gasps over and over, hands moving against her waist, her back, her sides, anywhere he can get them. His balls are tight and full, aching for release, and then–

–and then Anne dismounts. Pushes herself up with hands braced against Eddie’s chest, and he groans like a dying man at the hot sopping wet sound of his cock leaving the silky clutch of her hole. “{it’s time for your pussy to get filled and fucked, Eddie,}” she and Venom say, as midnight-black exoskin envelops Anne and she looms over him on all fours, bigger, all tongue and tits and long long legs.

“god, yeah,” Eddie moans as he feels something thick and hard pushing between his legs, pulsing with throbbing alien energy while his thighs are shoved apart. Anne draws her fingertips along his heaving side, leaving a curving trail of thin scratches in his skin, and then she ducks her way down his body with the veiny underside of her tongue – the long pointed symbiote tongue – leaving a trail of thick, viscous saliva in its wake. Until she’s between his spread-wide thighs and Eddie feels that tongue lapping at his hole, Anne shoving his hips to allow her better access. 

“{he already knows what this feels like,}” Venom spills the beans gleefully, and Anne makes an interested sound before she dives right in, her tongue slithering up inside Eddie while he whines high up in his throat and starts writhing as that incredible muscle, strong and thick and gooey-slick, works him open. He flings his arms out to his sides, clutching the edges of the bed as Anne and Venom thicken their tongue and the very very tip of it, still thin, lashes violently where it’s buried deep inside Eddie’s ass.

He howls, chin rising and head tipping back on the pillow, sweat breaking out all over his body, lips feeling swollen enough to burst. “Please,” Eddie sobs, his face streaked with wetness, and Anne’s hands – her fingers still faintly chilly – cup his jaw, his cheeks, as she kisses his chin so so gently. “Yes, baby,” she murmurs, rubbing her damp curls against his cheek as she kisses him over and over, soothingly, and Eddie swims vaguely back to the realm of thought enough to realize that his thighs are still being spread open, Anne and the symbiote working in tandem to keep him right on the brink, tilted whorish and helpless against whatever they want to do with him.

“Anne,” Eddie mumbles, blinking through spiky eyelashes as she gazes at him with a commanding indulgence in her expression, straight side of her hair dark with sweat and the other side starting to frizz, petting his face and murmuring wordless encouragement, “Anne. Make … make me take it.”

Her flushed-pink nostrils quiver, then flare, and Anne says, “oh, Eddie, my good good boy,” and she braces one knee against the mattress and cants her hips forward, the bulbous, pulsating length resting between Eddie’s legs finding his twitching pucker and ramming its way inside. Anne catches his scream against her lips and Venom’s shout reverberates in both their heads, raucous and triumphant, turning to an impressed growl when Anne nips at Eddie’s tongue and the cock inside him shifts, turns, starts to corkscrew. Cramming more and more of its girth and length into his guts, Anne’s thighs taut and shaking between Eddie’s where she’s working the borrowed mass of the symbiote into him, until it’s at least the thickness of her arm and Eddie’s staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, mouth open and trembling as he makes small huffing sounds like an overstrained engine.

“–the fucking power, Eddie, sweetie,” Anne rasps, driving that club of a cock into him, pulling out a few inches before slamming deep in again. “God, the way it feels when Vee’s inside you – I mean, inside inside, not inside like us beating open your pretty little cunt, Eddie, you like it, don’t you?” She spans her fingertips over his cheek, making him answer, and Eddie nods desperately. 

“I love it,” he says as Venom overlaps, “{HE’S NEVER HAD IT SO GOOD. DIDN’T KNOW HE’D BE SUCH A SLUT FOR US.}”

Anne bobs her head, nuzzling her nose against Eddie’s before she cocks her hips and bucks forward, seeming to prefer now to demonstrate her newfound physical power by pile-driving her prick into Eddie’s hole until she bottoms out. “Hold on to me, baby,” she tells him, pressing her rose-pink mouth next to his, and the two of them gasp and shudder as Anne and Venom rise and fall in a violent rhythm, claiming Eddie’s body with erratic, terrible precision as they drive into him, grind against him, pull out and drag against his prostate to force desperate pleading from him, fill him up again with that cock that never seems to stay the same size or shape but morphs according to his lovers’ whims. 

The only constant is that it drives Eddie higher and higher along the trails of ecstasy and painful need, his body pushed to its limits but craving the destruction, Venom’s sticky webs of black biting kisses along the backs of his thighs and along the crest of his hip and Anne’s sweet little gaspy kisses against his tear-streaked cheeks while she cups his face in her hands, cradling him like he’s the most precious thing in the world to her even while her cock takes him apart. 

“Eddie–” Anne groans, one hand skidding up the side of his face to clench in his hair as Eddie flings his arms around her to hold her tight against him, and Venom hisses, {EDDIE!} as the symbiote’s extrusions shove under Eddie’s hips, raising him for the final impassioned barrage of thrusts until they’re nothing but a whirling, pulsating, throbbing maelstrom of movement and flesh and heat and slippery lust, and nobody knows who comes first but it’s a group explosion and their voices make an intertwined, unbelievable chorus of fulfillment that seems to go on for minutes on end. And then longer, echoing shockwaves around the bedroom and inside the chambers of their skulls and chests as Anne slips on back down to her normal size and Venom lingers between them, cleaving them together until the symbiote sinks fully into Eddie again. Everything back where it should be.

Including Eddie and Anne in each others’ arms, the shiny soft tip of her nose brushing up and down against Eddie’s face. “You’re always so beautiful when you’ve just been fucked,” she murmurs, and Eddie – one more time for posterity now, boys! – tugs her close so he can kiss her freckled shoulder and say, “you can borrow him, y'know. Whenever you want to–”

“Rail you?”

“–feel powerful.” Eddie swallows as Anne spreads her fingers against his collarbones, looking at him, and he fumbles forward, “When you need to fuck someone up. After what … after. If you want to.”

Anne’s expression tightens, then melts into something the most vulnerable Eddie’s seen all night, her bottom lip stretching out taut before going plump again. “Okay,” she sighs in a tiny voice, “maybe that was part of it. After having Venom in me that time and knowing what it felt like, to have that much … ability, that much surging raw power at my fingertips, and then after getting attacked, it – I wanted to feel it again, you’re right. But Eddie–”

She props up a little on his chest so she can look at him, her hands folded neatly like cat paws against him, and Eddie can hear the symbiote rumbling but oddly, can’t tell what Venom’s thinking, or feeling. The symbiote’s just making sure he’s part of the conversation in his own way, subterranean underpinning. “–Eddie. I didn’t want to fuck you up. I wanted you." 

He feels a sinking weight in his chest and nods, then nods some more, fast and constant as he looks away at the light fixture just so he has something to focus on. Something other than the prospect of life going back to its lonely, dumpy status quo once Anne’s back in her blouse with its pearlized buttons and her kitten heels and her footsteps are echoing down the hall as she leaves him, again. He deserved it before, and maybe he still does deserve it. 

People changed, but maybe there were some changes that pushed you far enough apart that you’d never really find your way back. "Yeah. I get it, I – okay, yeah, makes sense.” He tries to sound nonchalant, or at least accepting and mature, and he’s about to launch into some asinine change of topic but Eddie stops when Anne taps a finger against his mouth until he looks back at her.

“I want you,” she says simply. “Ongoing. Past and present and future tense. You and Vee both, just like this.” Anne shrugs one shoulder with a little grin. “Well maybe not just like this, we can switch it up, right? However we want. We never did have a chance to get bored of each other, you and me, footloose and fancy-free.” She starts to sing, wriggling against Eddie to get comfortable: “–pull me off of my knees. Jack, get back.”

{COME ON BEFORE WE CRACK.}

“I’ll never get that song out of my head now, I hope you’re both happy with yourselves,” Eddie complains. He has questions, plenty of them, a cavalcade – he wouldn’t be Eddie Brock if he didn’t – but with Anne’s warm weight against him sagging further into sleep with every moment ticking by and Venom swirling sated and happy, Eddie thinks they can wait.


End file.
